Back From Camp!

Okay, its official. I love women. Not in a "don't ask don't tell" kind of way, but in a strong sense of sisterhood type way! I am back from a week of girls camp (girls age 12-16) and while I love those girls my favorite moments were spent around the camp fire with the other leaders talking, laughing and yes stealing cake into the wee hours of the morning. I will share some of the highlights: dropping the beanie I had to wear every night to prevent hypothermia into the toilet at 2:30 in the morning and laughing with the camp nurse so hard the neighboring camp leaders came and got mad at us, offering a bishop stolen cake at 1a.m. and finding out it was his cake I stole in the early morning kitchen raid (then lieing about my identity), having my hair braided and nails painted in the camp "lounge" by the girls and lastly having my high councilor return my pants to my husband at church after his wife accidentally took them home! It was a great week of silliness and laughter. I am glad Job and his sister were able to hold down the fort and allow me the opportunity!

The real story of the 5K

What Regina failed to tell you is that she beguiled me into joining in the running of the 5K. What started out as a friendly get together to run a little ended up as a fierce competition. I prepared for the race by drinking several Thomas Kempers eating way too much bacon and not seriously running for about 15 years. My whole goal that day was to show up my friend Todd. We both showed up with our headphones, MP3 players and running shoes. I even wore my shirt from the gym I work at thinking that it would help make me a super athlete. After the first few laps I quickly realized that all my preparation failed to make me a better runner. While I did finish in 34:30 it paled in comparison to Todd’s 25:00 time. Apparently there is something to that whole training thing he has going.
The real shock came the next day. I woke up as a spry 34 year old trapped in a 173 year old body. I have never hurt so much in my life. Here we are three days later and I still can’t squat down without wincing in pain. So I am here giving props to all of the women who completed the 5K (including the pregnant ones) and were still able to walk uprightly the next day.
Job

Family 5K

Just a heads up, I did another 5k this morning (with Job and my 8 year old) and finished in 38 minutes. I think it might be a new personal best. And to my cousin's surprise (who I'm sure could run a mile), I ran the first mile and a half without stopping plus sporadically ran till I crossed the finish line! Does this mean I'm going to be held to this standard from now on? I hope to high heaven it doesn't. I really do hate running. If I have no racket in my hand or am not chasing a ball it barely seems worth my time!

Not Another Broken Toe

Last year Job and I were asked to help our close friends chaperone a three day backpack trip with a large group of teenage girls for their"fourth year hike." I filtered water, ate re-hydrated food, and yes, pooped in the sand. Job Broke his big toe. Did I mention it rained two of three days. Well, this year, I was asked to go with the main group of girls (1st, 2nd, and 3rd year campers) to a week long camp with real showers, cabins, a lake, a cook, and so on. They asked if I would be in charge of crafts. So, you may not have guessed it but yes, I am a little crafty. All I would have to do is craft for three hours a day with 115 teenage girls. I THINK I AM NUTS. After several weeks of preparing for crafts, shopping, and sorting I am down to just two days before I leave and I am convinced that the girls are going to hate the crafts I chose. Either way I'll only be crafting for three hours a day. The rest of the time if they need me they'd better go look at the lake for the woman in the paddle boat with a good book and even though I thought a week free of testosterone would be a good idea, I'm going to miss the boys and Job.

The Last of the Good Ones

Just before I created my blog I woke up one morning and my face was swollen, my gums were puffy, my eye was droopy, and the whole right side of my face was numb. I knew the culprit and I knew what I had to do. I had to call the dentist. I had a root canal done years before but never capped while Job was in law school back east. Inevitably the tooth cracked, then abscessed,then lead to the afore mentioned fun morning. Amazingly, I found a dentist who was close by and didn't make me feel like a complete moron for never taking care of the situation years ago. She did the oral surgery, I was out of commission for a full day, and found out that I had more dental work than I thought that needed to be done. I also decided that dentist and their assistants should speak in code. I never want to hear the phrase, "I'll need that blade after all, " or "lets go with a larger needle," again. So, now to how this relates to my present predicament. Just last night I was drinking a rather large glass a water, feeling overly dehydrated (common condition for me), and Job managed to jam the glass into my lip and tooth cracking one of my front teeth and giving me a bloody lip. Job felt so bad. My crying and shaking probably didn't help. I tried to remind myself that it was an accident and that I wasn't in any pain but I didn't feel much better. All I could think of was, "why couldn't he have hit a tooth that already needed work!" Eventually I fell asleep, hysteria is exhausting. I woke up early this morning to complete my own personal 5k, no records broken, no famous athletes on my ipod, but I did come home with a better outlook. What's one more tooth to have worked on in the scheme of things. Right?

Way to Upbeat

So that last post didn't say one negative thing in it, and since its not like me to not complain, here it is; my dryer died this morning, my mower is broke again, and Job is off gallivanting with the local scout troop he paroles in a tent that smells like cheese. So, I have laundry on the line, my grass could use a mow, and Job will stink more than usual when he returns. On the plus side, the grass has almost completely hidden the broken down Ford in the back yard and dandelions are quickly becoming my favorite flower!

"I'm SO Excited, I Just can't Hide It..."

After a 45 minute tennis lesson with the boys I decided to see if I could sneak over and jog a lap walk a lap, jog a lap and walk a lap. Just one mile (I already did 3k this morning). Nothing Earth Shattering. BUT (wait for it) I did my fastest mile and jogged (if it even counts as a jog because it for sure was not a run) the whole thing. I didn't stop once! My ipod even confirmed my time and new personal best, though I didn't recognize the famous person congratulating me. Anyway, HIP, HIP FOR ME!

I Think My Green Thumb Fell Clean Off!

Yesterday I had a brilliant idea to take my boys to Lowe's and buy some plants for the front yard. I have avoided planting anything for the last couple of years because when I do the chickens just dig them up burrowing in the flower beds. We even skipped the veggie garden this year. Every year we would have the talk about how much work and responsibility a garden is and how a "family" garden can be amazing if taken care of. Every year the family garden was all about me dragging hoses and trying to scare away rabbits and deer while weeding the gourd patch (gourds grow abundantly in the vegetable garden after Job tilled in several plants one spring). I don't enjoy gardening. So this year when I announced no veggie garden there was little protest. Well, yesterday I decided I was bigger and smarter than any old chicken and could at least spruce up the front yard. The boys picked out some really pretty perennials and surprisingly talked me into buying them a lemon tree (it smells amazing and already has little tiny lemons on it that totally look like limes). I had an old flower bed that I was certain could be restored with twenty minutes of digging. After one hour of sweat and digging up rocks, roots, beetles and bricks, I quit. I had prepared about 1/3 of the flower bed and thought I might pass out. I was about to call a teenage boy and pay him to come finish it when Job called and said he would finish it after work! What a sweetie. Ironically I agreed just after all this that I would mow and weed the grounds at one of Job's work sites! What was I thinking!

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Watcha Gonna Do...

Saturday night we decided to go to bed earlier than we had been. Usually we crawl in bed by 9p.m. but with family here from out of town I don't think we had gotten to bed before midnight in weeks. At 11:30 p.m.ish I heard the most horrific crash, metal scraping, trees, snapping, tires squealing, kind of crash, I had heard ever. It woke me up hitting Job, screaming, "call 911! Call 911!" We went running out on the porch with two very different agendas. Job wanted to go running up and check things out. I, figuring that this type of accident coupled with the type of car (a 1980's teal Camero), for sure involved mass amounts of alcohol at the local tavern, stood on the porch yelling into the blackness, "Is anyone out there? Is someone hurt?" Job got off the phone with the emergency dispatcher and as he did a man with long hair, possibly a mullet, came walking back down the road cowboy boots clicking away on the pavement, asking, "Did you call the police?" When Job assured him he had all he said, repeatedly, was, "poop!" Okay that's not what he really said but come on, I can't type what he really said and still feel good about the link to my church's website...Then In a panic he said he couldn't stay. He told us he had done something bad. He had gotten into a fight with his wife, and off he clicked into the darkness. The Sheriff's department eventually came, they took off to the man's house after running his plates, leaving Rob and I sitting in lawn chairs in the front yard wondering what we should do. At this point the white van enters the story. My big fear with the guy disappearing was that he would return with six of his biggest friends. What I didn't stop to think is that him sending two stupid guys in a van would be just as bad. I found myself back on the phone with 911. The men removed things from the Camero and took off again. I tell Rob to go get my Red Rider BB gun but all he says to that is, "Are you serious?" We go back to our lawn chairs and wait, but here comes the white van again. Out pops the two guys and they are back into the Camero when one of them starts walking down the road toward my driveway! Panic kicks in. Call number three to 911! The police come back. They question the guy left at the van by his buddy and you can hear the police asking him if he is stupid. DUH! More police arrive (totally tearing up my gravel driveway by the way), and the van stays. Turns out it won't start! Now we have two broken down cars in front of our house and several police vehicles. In the end, everyone was sent home. The driver was never found and the police assured me his record currently was clean, he had no prior convictions and was not listed on any state registry that would cause me to pack up my children and stay at the local Marriott/Best Western in town. They said in two days I could report the car as abandoned and then it could be towed, after receiving the obligatory bright orange check mark that cars get when abandoned on the side of the road. If the car had been in our yard or blocking traffic (both of which it did not) he could authorize an immediate tow. Job offered to pull it into the road and while the officer did consider taking a short drive, I told Job he could not do it. So, Job and I went back into the house checking to lock all the doors and windows, and laid there grateful the boys had stayed asleep and grandma never stirred!

Oh- Sunday morning the white van came and retrieved the car. He said his friend was sorry and they would replace the section of fence and the mailbox.

I Have Solved the Mystery

So, I have spent the last few days worried about my son and his comment to our friend (you know the one where he said he would hit him in the nuts). Where did he learn that phrase? Does he know what it means? Would he really do it? So this morning after a big family breakfast, we had more family arrive. Job's sister and her family showed up and Job was overheard telling our youngest to go hit his sister in the nuts! If he wasn't confused before, he is now! I CANNOT believe he said that. Even though he was joking, I'm still totally ticked off!

Sidenote: Tiger Woods told me this morning on my ipod that I ran my fastest mile! I love Nike+

Happy 4th- Enjoy your freedom

Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. I had always wanted to be married on the 4th but for those of you who know anything about the LDS religion knows that that can't happen. Our sacred houses of worship and marriage aren't open on the 4th (or any federal holiday). We were married in March. But I digress. I do absolutely love this country and the freedoms it affords us. I love celebrating our nation and its independence. My oldest son was in 2nd grade this last year and his teacher called me at home stating that our son had requested that the class president (who is assigned, not elected) be impeached for infringing on his first amendment rights. This other boy, who is quite the bully, had told my son he was not worthy to speak and since he was the president he would inform him when he could and could not speak. I was asked if I would talk to him about the inappropriateness of him wanting to impeach the boy. I told him I didn't think I would. His teacher asked if he really understood the first amendment. I assured him that he apparently did and told him next time he saw him he could also ask him to recite the preamble, and tell you ten new facts about our nations first president (He thought he was George Washington for a year when he was three. He even called me Martha and told his kindergarten teacher that his birthday was February 22). I wish everyone shared his enthusiasm for history and his love of all things American. He goes sign waving at election time, he marches in parades with congressmen, he goes to vote with us at all the major elections. He is getting ready to be a responsible citizen. Maybe he will someday impeach a president, better yet maybe he will be president. On a side note, Job helped his sister put on an amazing fireworks show (she is a pyrotechnician) and he has all his fingers! Lets only pray that he doesn't get sick from all the moose dogs he ate.

Seriously up all night

So if anyone looks at this blog closely they may think, "WOW! she did a post at 6:15 a.m. She is funny and an early riser." Think again. I have seriously been up all night. That doesn't mean I woke up several times through the night, or that I was woken intermittantly by small children (my kids have slept through the night since about eight weeks). The last time I got up for a late night feeding other than my own was about six years ago. Here is my problem...I got home from a group meeting (where I discovered I should be getting half my weight in protein every day. Someone just give me a cow to gnaw on) and realized that while playing tennis with my eldest I had gotten a pretty serious sunburn, mostly on my arms. So, this is better than the sunburn I got last week picking strawberries where no one felt the need to tell me I was showing a little crack bending over to pick the little red buggers. Yup, I burnt a half moon on my lower back right down to the crack almost. This made sitting , laying, and moving a little uncomfortable. So, not wanting repeat the discomfort of last week I decided to take some ibuprofen before hopping into bed. I'm not sure if it was just heart burn or acid reflux or something but I woke up coughing and my throat felt like I had swallowed pool chemicals. Tums made me gag. Crackers, no help. Milk while a good source of protein, no help either...So I sat in bed and watched a plethora of late night to early morning television shows (Glenn Beck at 2a.m. was my fave) hoping that I would fall into a slumber despite the lightning storm that seemed to be directly above my house. If I didn't know better I might have thought God was trying to tell me something. Its either a lesson to cut out the sun worship, or increase my modesty while picking fruit.

Be a Good Boy...or it'll hurt ya

So for those of you who don't know, Jōb had four sons and three daughters, twice! That's a big fam. We have two sons. I wouldn't mind three sons but Jōb is good with two so we are consequently both good with two (but that's an entirely different blog entry). On Sunday evening a good friend of ours, after playing quite the impressive practical joke, came over for a visit with his wife, family and a pan of brownies. We then also saw him the next night at a birthday party for a different friend (who we gave ten lovely ears of corn to). Near the end of the party our youngest turned to our friend (the one with the brownies, not the corn), who happens to be acting Bishop in our church congregation right now, and said that he wanted to play at his house with his daughter. He said if he wasn't a good boy he couldn't come over and play. Upon hearing that my sweet, little angelic child stated, "Well if you aren't a good boy I'll kick you in the nuts!" I am telling anyone that is listening- "Do NOT let your children watch America's Funniest Home Videos." It is the downfall of the American child.